


Kindness

by Illiteracy_is_for_woozles



Series: New to the Neighborhood [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Bob Ross References, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Gen, Kindness, Mister Rogers is Too Precious, Neighbors, New Neighbor, Night Vale References, Piano, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illiteracy_is_for_woozles/pseuds/Illiteracy_is_for_woozles
Summary: Fred Rogers meets a new neighbor.He's seems sad, so Fred decides to invite him in for lunch.





	Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> So, I found this comic on Tumblr: https://workingonthepsychward.tumblr.com/post/183762338914/posted-with-permission-from-the-artist  
> I entirely blame them for this series.  
> The plan is for it to only be this one and one more, but if there are any other Marvel characters you want to meet Mister Rogers, I'll try to write them, too.
> 
> (The quote that Mister Rogers says is from Welcome to Night Vale.)

Fred Rogers loved springtime the best, but there was just something about the summer that put a spring in his step.

He chuckled to himself at his unintentional pun. (“ _A happy accident,”_ as his friend, Bob, would say.)

Birds sang and the sun shone through the trees, warming him and making everything seem to glow. Well, everything except for a group of trees on the edge of the community soccer field.

Fred blinked twice when he saw a man-shaped shadow among the leaves, perfectly still and silent.

He shrugged. He did things that others might find odd, so who was he to judge another person sitting in a tree?

Fred walked right under the branches and got a better look at the man: His hair was long and unwashed. His clothing was all black and there were… questionable bulges under his coat.

But his eyes were what got Fred’s attention. They were a startling blue with shadows behind them that belied years of sadness and pain.

Fred could relate.

“Hello.”

The man was silent, coiled tight like a spring.

“Are you new to the neighborhood?” Sometimes new people were apprehensive around him at first. It was a sad truth, but the rest of the world was hardly ever kind without wanting something in return.

When the man didn’t answer, Fred continued.

“My name is Fred Rogers.”

Something shifted in the man’s face, but it was still unreadable.

“I live in the little, yellow house over there and was just about to make lunch. If you’d like to join me, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

He waited again for a reply, and when he got none, he waved and walked away. Fred made sure that he was visible the whole walk home.

When he entered his house, he changed his shoes and put on a sweater as usual before heading to the kitchen.

Fred went about making grilled cheese and tomato soup, enough for two, and whistling quietly to himself.

There was a soft click that signaled the front door opened and closed.

When everything was finished, he poured the soup into bowls and set the warm sandwiches on plates and moved everything to a tray.

When he entered the living room, he found his guest at the piano, fingers hovering hesitantly over the keys. Fred idly noticed that he only wore a glove on his left hand.

“Do you play?” He set the tray on the dining table.

“I think I used to.”

Fred looked up at the low whisper, rough from disuse.

“The piano is a great instrument. I like to play because I can express my feelings without talking,” he tried. “Most people only hear a nice song, but those who really matter and really care hear what you’re trying to say, whether it’s that you’re happy or angry or sad.”

The man appeared next to Fred, startling him, but he just poured water from the pitcher into the two glasses Fred had brought out with the food.

They both sat and he smiled at the strangers’ stiff politeness. It reminded him a lot of himself when he was a child.

He waved to the table.

“Go ahead. Guests eat first in my house.”

His new neighbor hesitated but obeyed, bypassing the spoon and drinking straight from the bowl. He set it down, hands still cupped around it and his eyes thoughtful.

“Thank you.” He fixed Fred with a look. “Why are you helping me?”

Fred picked up his own sandwich and dipped it in his soup.

“Everyone deserves kindness.”

A harsh chuckle came from the other man.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew who I was or what I did.”

Fred shrugged.

“I don’t think it matters what we’ve done or what others have done to us, no matter how bad; Just that we forgive ourselves and each other and move on.” He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “I remember hearing somewhere, _‘The past is gone and cannot harm you anymore._ ’”

The man blinked twice and turned back to his dinner.

When their plates were empty, Fred began to wash the dishes. He was quickly joined by his extremely silent new friend.

They cleaned up in silence, each content with their own thoughts.

Afterwards, when everything was dried and put away, Fred stopped him on his way out the back door.

“Just so you know, I usually don’t lock the back door.”

The other man blinked, confusion clouding his eyes.

“In case you decide to try your hand at the piano again,” he amended.

Silence. And then…

“Maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, my tumblr is @squeaky-floorboards and you can come say hi and yell at me any time.  
> I'm also taking prompts in general. (Fandom to be posted here or original work to be posted on my writeblr, either way) My current WIP is from the The Future Is History series and it's going to take me a while, so give me side-projects to do so I don't get burnt out on it.


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